


2 x 2 = 2²

by werewoofteeth



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, M/M, Multiple Universes Colliding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27488125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewoofteeth/pseuds/werewoofteeth
Summary: Jason and, uh, also Jason? wake up in strangely familiar yet entirely unfamiliar surroundings. Can they find their way back home? Or does this rabbit hole go deeper than they think?
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	2 x 2 = 2²

Something feels-

Wrong.

Jason opens his eyes slowly and silently scans for intruders but, unsurprisingly, there are none. If someone had entered his safe house, he'd know about it. The feeling doesn't go away, though, and he sits up to have a look around. Everything seems normal at first glance.

On second glance, this isn't how his safehouse was when he fell asleep. The differences are so minute, he does wonder briefly if maybe he did just have one too many drinks. His hood, which he had taken off by the bed, is nowhere in sight, and his boots are unlaced by the door. Which is especially weird because he's currently _wearing_ his boots. 

Which dismisses the drunk idea.

The absurdity of it leaves Jason perplexed before anything else. No one's been in his safehouse and even if they had been, why take his hood and leave an identical pair of boots? He'd settle for a prank but again, no one's been in here besides him. 

Jason prowls around quietly to check but he still finds no sign of anyone having entered let alone still being here. His perplexity turns to weariness as he searches for his hood. That's when he realises this safehouse, which is _identical_ to his safehouse, isn't _his_. 

He stares at the gun in the top drawer that is definitely not his gun or his gear. 

Carefully, Jason picks it up to examine it further. It doesn't even fire bullets, though at first glance no one else would be able to tell that. The cartridge is full of needles and when he pulls the slide back, there's a vial of something where the chamber would be. This is, obviously, some kind of tranquilizer gun. A theory only confirmed when Jason rifles through more of the drawer to find more cartridges of needles and more vials that fit in the chamber. 

They're neatly labeled; several different strengths of tranquilizers, paralyzers, and deterrents. Some, he's sure, strong enough to drop a horse. Or a few dozen.

Jason briefly entertains the idea that one of his family, or even a friend maybe, broke into his safehouse to replace his things. He can only think of a handful of people who could get in and out of his safehouse without him knowing and even fewer who would do something like this. This is too fucking weird. 

Lacking his own gun, Jason holsters the convincing fraud and turns to his safe. No one gets into his safe. 

This isn't his safe. 

It opens with his code but it's not his shit inside. Jason looks through it anyways. Another cartridge of needles, these ones clearly fashioned from Kryptonite, a vial of something unlabeled and probably lethal, another vial labeled 'Joker venom', and, stranger still, a pendent Jason very distinctly knows belongs to Dick. 

Did Dick do this? 

They've been on good terms lately and this seems- highly involved for him to do without being warranted. Jason closes the safe. He rummages through some more stuff to get dressed. Not his clothes, but awfully close. Most of them are emblazoned with a Nightwing-blue Bat symbol which is annoying, but Jason deals with it for the time being. There's no hood, not even a helmet around, but there is a black domino that he dons for the time being.

With that, Jason hastily makes his exit. The sooner he finds out what the hell happened, the better. Once outside, he checks his safehouse exterior as well but it remains untouched and, more importantly, in the same location as when he came home last night. This just raises more questions than it answers. 

Jason goes to find Dick. 

He checks the first place he always looks when he wants to find Dick; the rooftops. At this time of day, it's not particularly hard to track him down. Jason feels uncomfortable not wearing his hood but he finds Dick and with him, his hood. 

"Hey asshole," Jason calls. Dick turns to look at him and it's strange seeing him wearing Jason's hood."Gimme my shit back. What's the fuckin' deal?" 

That's not Dick. 

Jason realises this about two seconds too late. Dick doesn't carry knives. He's also about two inches too tall and he's decaled in red, not blue. He knows his brother and this isn't his brother. 

"What are you talking about?" Dick replies curiously. That's definitely Dick's voice, though. Jason doesn't know what to make of any of this. He quickly tries to think of a way to backpedal out of this. "Nightwing?"

Nightwing? 

"Come on, I know you took it," Jason insists. There's something seriously wrong here and playing along currently seems like not only the best way to find out what's happening, but the safest, too. 'Dick' laughs. 

"Just because you misplaced something doesn't mean I took it," he replies. "What are you missing?"

"Really? You know what? Whatever, just keep it," Jason scoffs. If this Dick is anything like his own, he needs to get out of this situation fast before he gets caught. Those are not brand new knives and judging by the wear on them, this Dick has a completely different set of morals. 

"Nightwing-" Dick begins. A shout for help, fortunately, saves his ass. Oh, thank you Gotham based crime. Except- 

This Dick seems undisturbed. He doesn't so much as twitch, ignoring the cry, completely unbothered. He does seem to wait for it to be quiet before he keeps talking, though. Once he realises Dick isn't leaving, Jason swiftly decides to take the lead. He hops down from the rooftop and quickly tries to find where the yelling is coming from. 

"Nightwing, wait," Dick calls after him. Jason knows now that he's gotten this Dick's attention, shaking him is going to be difficult. He needs time to think of a way out of this and beating the shit out of some muggers is a half decent way. Dick isn't far behind, though. While he knows the gun in his possession isn't lethal, Jason still holds off on trying to use it. He doesn't actually have any idea how it works and more so, he doesn't actually know what it's loaded with. 

"You're not really mad at me, are you?" Dick asks as he joins the fray. He picks the woman's purse up and throws it to her before shooing her out of their way. She bolts off without hesitation and the muggers try to flee after. 

"Like I said, it's whatever," Jason says mildly, grabbing one of the men by the shirt and throwing him face first into the side of a dumpster. Dick seems less interested in this fight but he helps to an extent, mostly just by blocking their escape route. 

"No, it's not," Dick replies in the same tone. "How many times do I have to say sorry? I didn't know he was even involved with your case." So there is _a_ Jason, just not him. Everything here is getting weirder by the second. Dick hits the man trying to get past him so hard with his stick, Jason can hear the audible crack. He can't tell right away if that was lethal or not, but more importantly, Dick doesn't seem concerned about it. 

"I don't wanna talk about it," Jason says stiffly. He has no fucking clue what this conversation is even about and he's pretty sure he's already bluffed himself into a stupid, stupid corner. Dick sighs as Jason flings another man into a trash can. 

"You know if I knew he was involved, I wouldn't have come within a hundred feet of the guy like we promised," Dick urges. It sounds like Dick got a hold of a person of interest from a case his Jason was working on? There's so much to unpack here, Jason doesn't even know where to begin. If this is all some elaborate hoax, Jason's impressed.

More likely, he hates to say, he's not in Kansas anymore. 

He needs to get out of this situation and regroup and that means losing Dick. How he's going to do that, he's not sure yet. 

"You're going to have to talk to me at some point," Dick says. 

"'Have' to?" Jason repeats with a snort. "Now I 'have' to." 

"Want to," Dick corrects almost teasingly. 

"Been readin' my diary again?" Jason asks. 

"The one where you write me little love notes?" Dick asks. "Not this time." Jason acts before he thinks. If he were to think first, he'd assume that this Dick has a hood much like his own and therefore, the man coming up behind him was perfectly visible. Instead, Jason instinctively grabs a gun from one of the muggers and shoots the would be attacker past Dick. It's a non-lethal shot but it's not like Dick even checks before he's tackled Jason full body.

If Jason were to think for once in his dumb fucking life, though, he'd wonder why this Dick was attacking him for something not even fatal. 

Everything happens so abruptly, Jason doesn't really have time to think anything. Dick is on him in an instant, wrestling the gun from his grip with force. Jason isn't dumb enough to fight for a loaded, hot firearm and he lets it go without a fight, prompting Dick to hit him in the mouth. Not being able to see his face, Jason isn't fully sure what he's thinking. 

Before things can get worse, someone else grabs Dick and yanks him off Jason, slamming him roughly into a nearby wall. Jason touches his mouth and the bit of blood there. He _hates_ not wearing his hood. 

"Whoa, hey," Dick says in amusement, raising his hands in defeat as Bruce pins him to the brick. "Hello to you, too, dad." 

"What did you do?" Bruce growls at him. Jason is so disorientated. 

"Helped a lil' ol' lady out, obviously," Dick assures. "Hey, I didn't break your rules, Batboy. He's not dead." Dick wasn't upset; he was protecting Jason from Bruce. 

As weird as this is for Jason, he can only imagine it's ten times weirder for this Dick. He's definitely given away the fact that he's not the local Jason now. 

"You _shot_ a man for a mugging," Bruce says. 

"Again, still alive," Dick points out. "At this rate, though, he'll bleed out while you fuss around with semantics." Bruce looks at the man. He gives Dick a long, cold look before finally releasing him and turning to Jason. Jason naturally flinches away. 

"Deal with Red Hood," he instructs curtly in that sort of way that suggests this is usually his job- kind of like how his Bruce usually negates any issues with him on to Dick. Everything about this is so bizarre. "We're not done here, Hood." 

"I'll add it to the list for next month's tea time," Dick assures. Bruce, fortunately, decides to get the man to the hospital and not stick around here any longer than necessary. Jason isn't sure he could have navigated around any Bruce without causing an incident. Once he's gone, he looks back to Dick who holds his hands out like he's going to get handcuffed. 

"I'll do _anything_ if you take it easy on me, copper," Dick purrs in a low, seductive tone. That's weird, but Jason is more caught up in the idea that there's a version of him out there that _was a cop_. He's going to have a fucking aneurysm. "Jeez you _are_ in a mood today, aren't you? Let's just go." 

"It's been a long mornin'," Jason murmurs lamely. "No thanks to you, by the way." Dick pats him hard on the back as they start walking. 

"I didn't take your stuff, birdie," he says again. "But I'll help you look for it, how about that?" Jason gives him an annoyed scoff. He's glad Dick is leading because he's not actually sure where he’s _supposed_ to be taking him but they end up back at his safehouse regardless. Dick brings an arm around his neck as Jason unlocks the door. 

"So, finally seeing things my way, are you?" he asks. Assumedly, he's referring to Jason shooting a guy. "What brought you around?" Jason looks at the arm wrapped around him and mildly plucks it off before heading inside. Dick closes- and locks- the door behind them. Maybe he hasn't given himself away just yet. 

"Yeah, still not happy with you," Jason comments dryly. "Now where's my shit?" He's going to have to keep this up until he figures something else out. Dick pulls his helmet off and holy shit. Jason quickly tries to make it less obvious, but he can't help his stare. 

The entire left half of Dick's face is a brambly mess of old, torn scars and his left eye is badly damaged, though it's hard to tell if he can still see out of it or not. It's familiar enough that Jason can immediately place it as the remnants of a bullet injury- and the even worse knotted spot right above the corner of his eyebrow confirms it. He's so caught off guard by that, it's not until Dick is right in front of him that Jason realises the tone has changed. 

And it's not until Dick is kissing him that he realises what it's changed to. 

Jason panic shoves him off without thinking about it. He knows this isn't actually his brother but instead some strange, alternate version of him, but it's still way too close for comfort. The implications here are an entirely different issue he doesn't even want to think about right now. _Dick kissed him_.

"Hey, asshole! You can't just make everything better with a kiss, ya know," Jason snaps at him. He goes to shove Dick further away only to find one of his wrists caught on something. No, not caught. Dick handcuffed him to the wall. Jason reaches for his gun immediately- he knows when his hand is up- but Dick obviously expects this and he's quicker about it. He jolts forward, forcing Jason to back into the wall, and grabs the grip of Jason's gun to prevent him from grabbing it. Dick smiles. 

"You're not Jason," he says. Jason's heartbeat quickens. Dick pulls the gun out of his holster and tosses it to the ground where it slides far out of Jason's reach. "Which begs the question who you _actually_ are." 

"Just listen to me a second," Jason urges. Dick flashes his teeth but it's in such an unsettling way, Jason instinctively draws further back against the wall. 

"Oh, I am," he assures. That's a threat if Jason's ever heard one. Hearing it come from Dick, however, is still very strange to him. 

"I'm Jason," Jason says. Dick makes several, solemn 'tsk'ing sounds as he twirls one of his knives out of its sheath. "I'm not _your_ Jason but I am _a_ Jason." That, fortunately, gets enough of his interest to stop him from doing anything stupid. 

"Where _is_ my Jason?" Dick asks.

"If I have ta hazard a guess? Prob'ly with _my_ Dick," Jason says. Dick snorts a laugh. Yeah, he's definitely a dick alright. "Look, I don't know what happened but I woke up here this s'mornin' 'n I didn't realise _here_ wasn't home 'til I saw you." 

"So what? You want me to believe you're from a different dimension?" Dick asks, twirling his knife between his fingers. "And that you're definitely _not_ a very confused Clayface?" He whips his knife out so fast, if Jason wasn't already expecting it he wouldn't have been near fast enough to dodge. Of course, Dick wasn't aiming to hurt him- just draw blood. 

"Oh, you're good," Dick hums.

"Watch it, will ya!" Jason snaps back at him. If this Dick is Red Hood, he’ll have to expect his moral compass is more aligned with Jason’s than the other Dick’s. That’s concerning with Jason currently on the wrong end of his knife. 

“Go on then, convince me you’re an _alternate_ version of my Jason,” Dick encourages, turning his back to pull a bottle off the shelf. It’s not a thoughtless gesture, either- he wants to know if Jason is going to attack him presented with the opportunity. That would give him more than enough reason to not play nice. 

Jason can’t assume they _share_ a morality; a version of Dick not held back by his ‘good’ nature sounds far more volatile than Jason could ever be. 

“‘n what do you think’s gonna convince you of that?” Jason asks mildly. Dick pours two shots of Jack before facing him again.

“I just want to hear how in depth you planned this,” he says with a shrug and offers Jason one of the glasses. Jason hates how bizarrely familiar this situation feels. He takes the drink and watches as Dick throws back the other one. Pushing his paranoia, and with it the countless ‘what if’s, aside, Jason downs the other. 

“Can ya uncuff me now?” he asks and gives an annoyed yank at his cuff. 

“No,” Dick replies, almost sweetly really. He plops down on the edge of the bed and smiles. "Start talking." 

" _Dammit Dick_ ," Jason huffs under his breath. No, of course this couldn't go _easily_. "Fuck, I don't know. Batman billionaire Bruce Wayne found me stealing the hubcaps off the Batmobile?" 

"No dice," Dick says. "Every Gothamite and their mother knows how Bruce adopted his golden son. Who doesn't love a rag to riches story?" It's _incredibly_ disorientating hearing him be referred to as the 'golden' son. Jason's already seen for himself this Dick and Bruce don't have a great relationship but that's completely different from Jason being the _good_ son. Dick and Bruce fight all the time; that never makes Jason the favorite. 

"Alfred put me in Dick's room because he didn't want to clean another one," Jason says. He really has no idea what he's trying to accomplish here for this Dick but, hopefully, he can get some answers to his own questions doing this. What made everything here so weird and yet so familiar? 

"Snore," Dick replies and fakes a yawn. Jason gives him an irritated look. 

" _I'm_ Red Hood where I come from," he says. "You're wearing _my_ helmet that _I_ modeled after Joker's old alias." That gets Dick laughing. Enough so that he doesn't even respond for several, very annoying moments. 

"Sorry," he finally says, grinning full face. "The thought of Jason being Red Hood- now that's funny. Jason couldn't kill to save his life. That 'gun' you have-" 

"A tranquilizer, I know," Jason says sourly. He's had just about enough of this. Angrily, he reaches up and yanks the collar of his shirt down, exposing the deeply embedded y-incision scars on his chest. That shuts Dick down completely. He stares. 

"I died," Jason says. Dick slowly unzips his outer jacket. "Joker beat me to death with-" 

"A crowbar," Dick finishes. He pulls the collar of his suit down to show off the same deep, gouging autopsy scars on his chest. The scarring on his face isn't just for looks; he died from that. 

Is that the difference? In this _reality_ , Dick died? 

Dick pours himself another shot. 

"What-" Jason pauses and swallows a little thicker than anticipated. "What happened to you?" Dick looks at him out the side of his face but that amusement from earlier is completely gone. _Any_ sort of pleasantness he might have shown early has evaporated. He taps the entry scar on his forehead with a harsh, jabbing finger. "Joker?" 

Dick nods slowly. 

"I don't know how I came back but they- the al Ghuls- _Talia_ al Ghul threw me in a Lazarus Pit," Jason explains- and it feels weird. He's never told anyone this. Not anyone who didn't already know. 

"The al Ghuls," Dick says with a bitter laugh. He shakes his head. "I remember that night, you know," he says and he points at Jason's face or, rather, the scars on his face. They're nowhere near as bad as Dick's but they've never been particularly appealing looking, either. "Bruce gives you _everything_ and still, _still_ you go running to your bitch mother." 

There it is. Dick's unfiltered anger. Jason doesn't feel safe chained to a wall at all, let alone while _any_ Dick is this upset. The knife's too big to pick the lock and the chains are reinforced for someone a lot bigger and stronger than him. He'll have to break his thumb to slip out. 

"Two months," Dick says. "I was dead for two months before Bruce found another stray _bird_ to take under his wing." 

"I got replaced by some attention starved rich kid who'd been stalking you," Jason says. 

"Don't hurt yourself, kid," Dick scoffs. He flips the key out between his fingers and tosses it to him. Jason catches it and they exchange looks, neither fully trusting the other. He uncuffs himself and rubs his wrist. 

"Talia-" Jason begins. Dick downs another shot. 

"Nope," he says. "Offered, though. Kori and Roy found me wandering around half dead, borderline feral. After Bruce took another kid in so fast, they didn't trust him. Kori tossed me in the Pit." If Dick wasn't dangerous before, he sure is now. He holds the bottle out and Jason takes it. 

"I hunted down Joker as soon as I thought I was myself again," Jason murmurs. Dick laughs. 

"Beat him to death," he agrees with a nod. "I was so- _so_ angry he was still alive after what he did to me." Jason can just nod along in agreement, taking a drink from the bottle. 

"Your Joker's dead, then?" he asks. "Bruce- stopped me before I could do anythin'." Dick holds his hand out and Jason passes it back. 

"No," he says and drinks. 

"Bruce revived him?" Jason asks. Dick laughs. He nods and he doesn't stop laughing and doesn't stop smiling. 

Not for the first time, Jason wonders if this is how people see him: manic and jaded and _mean_. Not for the first time he wonders: is he not righteous in that? Does he not get to be vindictive in that? 

"We good then?" Jason asks. "No more handcuffin' me to walls?" 

"Not unless you're into that," Dick replies, passing the bottle back with a wink. Which brings up the question Jason is terrified of the answer to. 

"You and your Jason are, uh-?" he gestures vaguely to let Dick fill in the blank. Dick huffs an amused sound. 

"Dating?" he says. "Yeah. Don't tell dear ol' dad, though. He'll have a heart attack right after he throttles me for corrupting his favorite son." 

"I guess Dick and I see each other more as brothers," Jason murmurs. 

"Oh sure, that's how it starts," Dick assures with a hum. "You get on semi-okay terms, then you start helping each other out, then he puts on your costume to cover for you when you break your knee and you think to yourself, that's kind of hot, I wonder if he'd be weirded out if I told him I wanted to suck him off like this-" 

" _Brothers_ ," Jason says hastily, the tips of his ears turning usually warm. " _Just_ brothers." 

"Whatever you say, birdie," Dick replies dismissively. Jason clears his throat. 

"No offense to you or anythin', but I don't wanna be stuck here forever," he comments. "You gonna help me figure out what the fuck is goin' on?" 

"Yeah, I'd like _my_ Jason back eventually," Dick agrees. "Preferably after he's forgotten why he's mad at me." 

"Well, if he's in my place like I think he is, he's gonna have a lot more to worry about than that." 

X

Dick ruffles his hair tiredly. It's been a long night and with dawn just breaking, he's looking forward to a good sleep. He's been listening to Tim and Bruce go back and forth on the radio all night about some strange happenings and bizarre readings all throughout Gotham. They have very different ideas of what's causing them that there isn't enough data to prove one way or another. 

Honestly, Dick just wants what's ever causing these strange crimes to stop. It's been unusually busy even for Gotham. 

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?" Jason insists. Dick turns curiously to watch as Jason comes hopping across roofs towards him. It's strange not seeing him wear his signature red hood but instead just an ordinary domino. He's not sure what Jason is angry about today but he's sure it has something to do with the case he fucked up for Dick. 

Not the first, or last, time it'll happen. 

" _This_ ," he says, gesturing to himself. "Isn't makin' me want to take your side, dick weed." Dick looks at him curiously. He's not sure what Jason is referring to and more importantly, what 'side' he's talking about. 

"Your- clothes?" Dick asks. Jason gives him a nasty look that, seemingly without warning, changes to something more suspicious. He looks Dick's face over slow, then the rest of him. 

"What happened to your face?" he asks. "Why-" he stops. 

This isn't Jason. 

Dick thinks he realises this about the same time whoever this actually is realises he's not talking to who he thinks he is. There's an awkward moment of silence where they just stare at each other. This Jason, and he does look and sound exactly like Jason, is a little too short and his face isn't scarred up like it should be. How strange. 

His first assumption is Clayface but this seems fairly complex for him. Clayface wouldn't make himself _not_ look like Jason in order to convince Dick he _wasn't_ Clayface. Besides, last Dick checked he was actually working _with_ Batwoman. 

Maybe if he plays along, he can find out more. 

"Jason?" Dick questions. "What are you talking about? What happened?" 

"Uh," Jason replies awkwardly. He takes a step back, nearly off the ledge, but quickly rights himself before he gets hurt. "Nothin', I just- uh- shit, bumped my head?" 

"Is that why you're not wearing your hood?" Dick asks pointedly.

" _My_ hood?" Jason says incredulously. "I mean, yeah- yeah, that's why. I, uh, I'm gonna go lay down, actually." 

"I'll come with you," Dick assures. "Make sure you make it back okay. I should be getting some sleep soon myself. If you've given yourself a concussion, you should have someone nearby, anyways." 

"R-right," Jason murmurs. "Thanks." Definitely not Jason. This is already a very strange situation going in. Dick doesn't feel like this imposter is malicious, just very confused. That being said, he can lead the way back to one of Jason's safe houses like he's been here a lot. He even lets them in, no problems with the security system in sight. If this is someone trying to get at them, he's done his homework extremely well. 

"Do you want some ice?" Dick offers. Jason looks at him oddly a moment. 

"Oh," he finally says. "Yeah, sure. I don't think I have a concussion, though. If you have somethin' betta to be doin'-" 

"Like I said, I was gearing up to call it a night, too," Dick promises. 

"Right," Jason murmurs. He's trying to shake Dick and without knowing this guy's angle, there's no way Dick is letting him out of his sight just yet. Dick starts putting together a bag of ice. 

"How'd you hit your head, anyways?" he asks. 

"Uh, I don't remember?" Jason says. Dick arches a brow at him. "I mean, adrenaline, you know? I probably just slipped." He's really dedicated to this lie despite obviously having to come up with it on the fly. 

"I know you're not Jason," Dick says. Fake Jason jolts. 

"W-what are you talking about?" he replies, far too awkwardly. "Did _you_ hit ya head?"

"Listen, I know my brother and you're not him," Dick assures. "You're way too nice." Realising his lie is up, the fake Jason relaxes- which means he gets irritated much easier. 

"Ya, well, you ain't Dick, either," he replies. "I don't- when I woke up a lil' while ago, I was here okay? Didn't even realise _here_ wasn't home til I saw your face." Dick touches his face curiously. 

"What's wrong with my face?" he questions. 

"You know, you're not-" Jason says, gesturing to his own. "Scarred up?" 

"Scarred up? What happened to your, uh, _Dick_?" he asks- trying not to laugh. This is serious. They don't know where _his_ Jason is. 

"He- died?" Jason replies curiously. "You- did you not?" 

"You- I mean _my_ Jason, died," Dick says. "Not me." 

"So you actually are Nightwing," Jason mumbles. "And I'm- you're me- is Red Hood." 

"And you're Nightwing, aren't you," Dick says. Jason looks up at him again. He nods. "Okay. This is weird. This is definitely weird. We need to get you home and get my Jason back." 

"Yeah," Jason agrees. "Yeah, you're right. I- you know, you're a lot nicer than my Dick, too. I guess we'll just assume we- switched spots." 

"Let's hope so," Dick says. Honestly, one Jason was enough. Even this 'nicer' version of him is just too much Jason. He's sure Jason feels the same about Dick- both Jason's. 

"We should talk to Dad," they say at the same time.

A pause. 

They look at each other. 

"You _want_ to talk to Dad?" 

Another pause. Jason seems to have a sudden realisation and puts his head in his hands. 

"God, I'm the problem kid in this universe," he says. "Bruce is gonna eat me alive." It's so bizarre to think that in another place, _Dick_ is the one who gave Bruce such a hard time. It does look like they one for one switched. 

"Dad loves Jason, the same way I'm sure your Bruce loves Dick," he insists. "He and Jason just don't always see eye to eye. If we explain what's going on, he'll understand you aren't our Jason, okay?" 

"So your Jason didn't die, come back to life, try to kill dad in a murderous rage, then actively do everything in his power to make his life extremely difficult?" Jason asks. 

"No, no, he did all of those," Dick assures. Jason makes a quiet, stressed noise. "Though this does make me realise that my Jason is now with your Dick." 

They stare at each other. 

"Oh my god, they're gonna kill Bruce," Jason says. "I need to get home." 

"We need to get you home immediately," Dick agrees. He can't even say whether it'd be on accident or purpose at this point. Fortunately, if he knows Jason, he's not going to want to go anywhere near Bruce let alone an alternate one. Hopefully that means his alternate self is the same way. 

"Bruce and Tim have been investigating some strange occurrences all night," Dick explains. "I'm willing to bet that had something to do with the sudden switch." 

"Right, okay," Jason murmurs. "Knowing them- _my_ them-" 

"I think we get the picture," Dick says. "Let's stop with the _mine-your_ thing before we give us both the headaches of a lifetime." 

"Agreed," Jason grumbles in return. "They're probably duking it out in the cave." 

"Let's go," Dick encourages. "Uh, actually- maybe you should change first." 

" _Please_ ," Jason replies. "No offense, but this gear looks way better on you." Dick really isn't sure he could disagree more. Still, this Jason is obviously uncomfortable in his Jason's gear and honestly, wearing something closer to what he actually does in his own universe is a good way to immediately make the distinction. "Uh, where is all your shit?" 

"At- home?" Dick answers bemusedly. 

"You keep your gear at home?" Jason asks. 

"Yes?" This feels like a trick question some how. 

"Oh," Jason says. "Uh, sorry, I just-" He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "You know what, forget it. I'll see what I can do with what I have here." 

That was weird. Dick makes busy doing something else while Jason changes. 

"Can I ask you something?" Jason questions.

"Sure," Dick agrees. He doesn't see that much harm in answering a few questions- though he supposes that steams from the fact that this does look exactly like Jason and Dick wants to trust him on instinct. 

"How did Jason die?" he asks. "Was it Joker?" 

"Yeah," Dick murmurs. "He was lured in by his mother and the Joker- beat him to death." 

"I-" Jason hesitates. "I remember that." 

"You do?" Dick asks curiously. 

"Yeah, Dick came and saved me. I- he was already Red Hood by then, though. I thought he hated me but he risked himself to come get me," Jason explains. A pang of guilt hits Dick's stomach. It's not like there was anything he could have done; Dick only knew about it long after Jason was already dead. 

"How did I die?" Dick asks back. 

"Joker shot you," Jason says. He points at a spot on his forehead. "It was so sudden, Dad said there was nothing he could do." Dick rubs the old, mostly faded scar on his chest. He remembers that, too. He wonders, now, if he hadn't been so disoriented in that fight, would he have run his mouth and got himself shot in the head? Would he have been angry and jaded like Jason? 

Would he have been right to be? 

"Hard to believe I would have died that day," Jason comments quietly. "That I could have become- like you." Dick glances at him and Jason looks back. 

The golden sons, Dick thinks and it's hard not to be bitter. But not the favorites. 

"Feel better?" Dick asks. Jason pats himself out and looks himself over. He's put together some amalgamation of Jason's wardrobe to the effects of something looking like a cross between Dick's Nightwing and Jason's Red Hood. It looks good but it's still strange seeing Jason not in his hood. 

"Much," Jason says. 

"Let's go try to explain this to Bruce, then," Dick murmurs. It's going to be a very long night. 


End file.
